The day after the morning after, Martin stole away for most of the day to meditate and spend time surrounded by the peacefulness of nature, to pray and reflect on the state of his soul. Toward evening, he heads toward the treehouse, after making sure his camp is secure for the night. "Are you there Ren?" he calls as he scales up the rope. Then he crawls into the treehouse all the same, answer or no.

There's no answer, but there's a lamp on and Ren's coat is lying on the little table -- which is all the warning Martin gets before he gets in through the trapdoor and a bundle of coyote-kin leaps on him, trying to catch him by surprise and push him down onto the bed. It's accompanied with a playful growl.

Tristan is there, below the treehouse, looking up. He must have followed Martin, or perhaps he was there all along. He doesn't call out or scale the rope himself, though, only listens, head cocked.

Martin does leave a rather noticeable trail of both peculiar scent and noise-making. "Oof!" he replies as he's tumbled back. He's a big guy, but the Coyote-kin has the advantage of surprise and leverage. He laughs as he tumbles into the nest, his arms coming around Ren as he says, "You're lucky I didn't bring anything with me or it'd be all over the place."

Serendipity grins broadly, coming to rest atop Martin, "'s not a big place, 's easy t' clean," he replies, and gives him a good long, deep kiss for a while before eventually relinquishing the blond's mouth. "...Hi."

Tristan's mouth twists and he drops his gaze, kicking the toe of his shoe into the pebbles of the lakeshore. He rumples his hair all up, then tilts his head back and calls up, "Hey."

Martin muffles his reply against Ren's lips, then gives into the whole kissing situation without complaint, strangely enough. "Hi," he replies warmly. As the sound of a voice below, he tenses a little. Oh no someone might catch him relaxing and being intimate! "I think you've got guest," he says.

Serendipity blinks, and then recognizes the voice, and brightens. "Tristan!" he exclaims happily, and glances over his shoulder toward the still-open hatch. "C'mon up!"

Tristan grins in return, but it doesn't last long. He clambers up the rope like a lizard scaling a wall and slings himself through the trapdoor, backflipping to land in a crouch. "Hey guys."

Martin's expression goes a little funny at the mention of Tristan, and he clambers out from under Ren, retreating to the burner where the tea kettle exists. Watch him become instantly domestic(ated). "Who wants tea?" he asks awkwardly. "H-hello, Tristan."

Serendipity gives Martin a pouty look for retreating, and gets himself comfy on the bed, seated upright, this time. "Tea's not =highest= on my lista things I want," he informs Martin, with about half a grin, which broadens a little when he looks over at Tristan and checks him over. "You look okay. I was kinda worried, after what Rae told me. You good? 'm sorry I wasn't here."

Tristan doesn't look any the worse for misadventure. He smirks faintly as Martin goes all flustered, crosses his arms and rests them on the tops of his knees. "Yeah. All good. Fucker didn't so much as claw me, just broke every bone in my body 'bout three or four times, and shit, that ain't nothing." The smirk spreads a little, for Ren. "I'm /glad/ you weren't there. Danny and that Miki had to go harin' after me, when I was all, 'Go the fuck away please!'"

Martin puts on the kettle and searches around for some tea to pour into the pot. "What happened?" he asks hesitantly. "I heard there was some kind of trouble, but we were in Millinocket."

"Yeah, well, I still wish I'd been there. Bet somea that was mine by rights with, y'know, the stake an' all. Feel kinda guilty I was off havin' fun and stuff at the time. ...PLus, I =really= woulda liked t' see that asshole torched," Ren replies, curling up more comfortably.

Tristan waves a bony hand expansively. "Ain't no thang. Anyway, it's all taken care of." He tells Martin, "There was this leech, right, Faro, who wanted to feed yours truly to his bossman, but Faro met up with a doom named Anderja and he's dead as dinner. Went up just like that!" he snaps his fingers. "Ain't never seen anything like it. Faro was ashes in less time'n it takes to tell."

Martin says uneasily, "As much as I regret all this talk of killing, I'm glad that this... this Faro won't be in a position to cause you harm." He eyes the teakettle furtively. Curse nature for not providing boiling water on demand.

"He tried t' kill me too," Ren remarks to Martin. "...'course, technically I guess that was after I tried to kill him. But =that= was after he threatened to kill me and was tryin' t' use me as a hostage to make Tristan agree t' let the guy's master eat him." Pause. Grin. "An' NOT in the nice way. So Faro? No big loss. Though I heard Anderja didn't wait t' ask any questions or anything, which mighta been nice."

Tristan snorts, amused. "He pretty damn successfully used you as a hostage, kiddo. Wasn't no tryin about it." He abruptly unwinds, rearranging himself crosslegged in a single eerie motion, like watching a spider unfurl. "But hey. I gotta tell you somethin. You too, Martin."

Martin glances up to watch Tristan's eeriness with a vaguely unhealthy fascination. "I suppose all's well that ends well," he ventures, then asks, "Yes, Tristan? What is it?"

"Yeah, well, then I staked him," Ren retorts, but lets the matter drop, more intrigued by this than his pride is dented. "What's up?"

Tristan's expression is unusually solemn as he looks at both men in turn. His eyes are bluer than anything else, tonight. "Anderja saved my life. More'n that. Saved me. Faro's boss wouldn'ta drained me, no, nothing so quick an' neat, I'd've been his milchcow for who knows how many years. He didn't do it fer me, accourse, did it for that brother a his. Don't matter. He expended his precious time an' energy and I gotta pay him back. We talked. He's sendin me away. On a mission."

Martin frowns faintly. Apparently all this 'doing things in exchange for favors' doesn't settle well with him, but he keeps his displeasure reined in to a mere grumbly look. "Alright."

Serendipity studies Tristan thoughtfully for several seconds. "....Yeah? What kinda mission? When you comin' back? An' d'you need a hand with anything?" he inquires, apparently willing to accept the vampire's sense of debt.

Tristan grins tiredly at Martin. "Yeah, I know, man, I know. You'd think he could be like, 'hey, well, I rescued my little brother, and just happens that it saves your bacon as well, no big,' right? Ain't the way the man thinks. Dangerous, dangerous men think like that. You guys don't even piss off Anderja, okay? Anyway." He shuffles a little in place, resettling himself, and shakes his head at Ren. "Can't tell ya. Lemme just say that it'll be just like the old days." The grin is far flashier and nastier, this time. Almost, nay, definitely eager. For a split second, you can see what he must have looked like in his days with the Resistance, before the long years of running and sorrow wore him so thin. "I got all I need, and this is a one man job, anyway. But thanks, Ren." He actually reaches out to touch Ren, not heavily, two fingertips on the nearest Kin-bit. "Thanks. I mean it. Thanks for everything."

Martin watches Tristan and Ren, his expression inscrutable. "Is that what you had to tell us?" he asks Tristan teasingly. "I won't intentionally anger this Anderja. Nor do I particularly want to anger anyone else either."

Serendipity grins crookedly at Tristan, and rests a hand on the two fingertips, gently, to give them a little squeeze. "You know you're welcome for anything. Still want you in the kumi, too. =Are= you coming back?"

"Gonna be honest with you." Tristan grips Ren's hand in return, then withdraws, folding his arms across his belly. "I don't know. I sure hope so, but it ain't ever a sure thing. This thing, maybe less sure than others." He doesn't respond verbally to the part about the kumi, but does give Ren a saucy little grin. He moves again with that fluid ripple and winds up crawling towards Martin on his hands and knees. "You, I got something particular to say, cuz a what you are. I got no worries about Ren. Ren got further'n I did with Faro. People are always gonna underestimate him, they see that flippant grin and they think, here's somebody ain't got more depth than a puddle in Sum. Dark, Faro underestimated him, and elder leeches make their living off not underestimatin' nobody. But you, Martin, you... I gotta tell you something."

Martin leaves off tea making entirely as Tristan crawls toward him. The trader's eyes widen, and he goes very still, kind of like cute little bunnies do when rattlesnakes are on the move. "Y-yes?" he asks weakly.

Serendipity grins back at Tristan, and watches this, ducking his head just a fraction at the bit of praise there.

Tristan ends up kneeling before Martin, staring intently at him. "Maybe you already are doing this, maybe not, I dunno, but here it is: Don't let any other vampire bite you, Martin. Hell, I'd tell ya to never let /me/ bite ya again but I'm too selfish for that, too fuckin selfish."

Martin watches Tristan, eyes wide with that same unhealthy fascination. "I don't know any other vampires," he says quietly. "I, um... I won't. If you -- no, wait. It's not fair for me to ask that. I won't. Let them, I mean."

Serendipity watches the pair of them intently, and half-smiles very, very faintly at Martin's reply, shifting to curl slightly differently on the bed there.

"What ain't fair?" Tristan presses, staring unblinking into Martin's eyes.

Martin exhales softly, studying Tristan's face, barely remembering to blink himself. "To ask that you do it again. I try to get it out of my mind, but it's there. Just being around you, knowing what you are..." His words are spoken so quietly, barely a whisper.

Serendipity sits on his hands, and glances down, feeling suddenly as though he's intruding, but can't stop from watching again almost immediately, up from under his lashes.

Tristan chuffs a breathless little laugh. He glances at Ren as he replies. "I don't turn down good blood, and your blood's more'n good, and that's why it's so dangerous." Suddenly demure, he lowers his eyelids. "Yeah. I'll bitecha again. Can't say no. Don't have it in me to say no." For some reason he's looking again at Ren when he says that.

Martin unfreezes as Tristan looks toward Ren. He reaches out a hand toward the vampire to brush his fingertips gingerly over a lock of pale hair. "I was told it was just a story," he admits, almost like an apology. "That they had tried but never got one to breed true." Til now, apparently.

Serendipity's expression is unusually difficult to read, watching them. Then he scoots over a little, freeing up more of the bedspace around him, and pats the mattress with both hands, inviting them. "C'mere," he invites, a little hesitantly. "Botha you, I mean. You c'n do it over here, 's more comfortable. Lemme stay with you guys, though? I'd offer too, 'f you wan'ed, but- well, kinda feels like offering beer at a wine tasting." He half-smiles, and looks almost shy about the invitation. Weird.

Tristan looks guilty, which is almost as weird as Ren looking shy. "Course you can stay," he says gruffly. "The hell kinda question is that? And..." he looks at the bed as if it was an angry stag, but nods. "Yeah. C'mon, Martin." He doesn't even ask, just assumes Martin will do what he says, as he wriggles towards the bed.

Strangely, Martin does exactly what Tristan says, climbing after him toward the bed. "Do you have to leave right away?" he asks. "Will this Anderja mind if you... maybe stop by again tomorrow?"

Serendipity makes sure there's enough room for the pair of them, and when they've found spots, moves again, ending up sort of curled about both of them, on the outside of the pairing, by the wall. Then he watches, quietly.

Tristan wriggles bonelessly onto the bed. He doesn't need comfort to be comfortable; he could probably look relaxed on a bed of broken glass. Not that he ever looks relaxed. He pats Ren's back with a crooked grin, then looks curiously at Martin. "I can't stop by. He's got it all magicked up 'n shit. Why? If you wanna tell him something or whatever, find Miki and tell him." His gaze lingers on Martin, as he finishes speaking, and he licks his lips.

Martin shakes his head and whispers, "I meant to see me." He lies back, looking not quite comfortable so much as transfixed. The big guy trembles like a frail thing, and he doesn't quite seem himself at the moment. He's rarely this focused, for example. He must never have heard the warning not to look a vampire in the eyes -- either that or he doesn't care. He just watches Tristan intently.

Serendipity stays quiet, and where he is. Millions wouldn't believe it.

Tristan pats Martin's broad chest with a delicate flutter of his hand. He's not too blase himself at the moment. "Okay. You ask Miki. He'll setcha up." He sets about pushing Martin's rolled sleeve further up, to expose the tender crook of the elbow. "Setcha all up," he whispers, not really speaking, just talking on automatic, "all up real good." He gazes tenderly upon the unmarked flesh, then bends his head, lips parting, fangs elongating. Slowly, without the haste of his first snack upon Martin, he eases his fangs into the vein that runs just below the skin at the inner bend.

Martin closes his eyes, shifting restlessly as Tristan rolls back his sleeve. It's shameless, the way he's literally shaking with anticipation. Moreso, when the vampires fangs pierce his flesh, and his back arches gracefully, lips parting in a soundless cry. His features are wash in unholy ecstasy. Not bad to look at, if one is into the whole 'mindless lust' look. Right now, the trader probably couldn't struggle if he wanted to. Hell, it would be a miracle if he could even move of his own volition.

Serendipity shifts just a little bit, not enough to pull away from Tristan, but enough to sort of slide under Martin, get him into the kin's lap and wrap his arms loose about him, head tilting forward to nuzzle very, very lightly in his hair.

Tristan whimpers. His eyelids flutter, and his long pale hand tenses and relaxes rhythmically on Martin's chest. As he drinks a little deeper, lets a little more of Martin's blood flow into his mouth, he actually starts groaning deep in his throat, and rocking his hips in a motion even older than vampires. Ren will have never seen him react like this before, to /anything/, but he's doing it now, with his fangs in Martin.

Martin nuzzles back at Ren, whimpering softly, his breath coming in sharp, staggered gasps. He doesn't quite seem to be aware of much, reduced to pure reaction, moving in a way that's utterly obscene, writhing, nuzzling. There probably aren't any religions that could possibly condone this much shamelessness, particularly his own.

Serendipity's doesn't particularly see a problem with it. All the same, he seems remarkably still and calm by comparison, almost melancholy. He strokes a hand gently across Tristan's hair, fingertips running through the strands, and after a minute, perhaps, lets a hand trail down Martin's torso and lower, teasing all the places he knows are most sensitive.

Desire, no matter how keen, has never made Tristan look more human. If anything, it's made him more alien, because what he desired is so far from human desire. Yet, now, as he trembles and moans and grasps blindly at Martin and actually rubs himself against him, he looks mortal again. It's not hard at all to imagine him alive and aroused, and that, perhaps, is the most alien thing of all. He's drinking very, very slowly; he knows he won't get another chance, and he can't bear to make it go quickly, not now, not this.

Martin is pure response, with no sign whatsoever of a conscious thought. The twisted irony of Tristan's image of humanity is the loss of Martin's own. There is nothing there but sensation, mindless pleasure. His fingers curl in the blankets of the bedding, twisting it beneath him. The noises he makes are soft and muffled, more like an animal's than a human being's. His body is immediately responsive to Ren's touch, not bothering to pass through any untidy brainwork first. Tristan could probably drain him if he wanted, and the man wouldn't make a single move to save himself.

Serendipity would, surely... but he trusts Tristan, would never interfere unless things truly went wrong. As it is, he just keeps doing as he's doing, a quiet adagio counterpoint to their melody and rhythm.

At last, Tristan raises his head and seals the wound, and collapses on Martin like an exhausted lover. "Too good," he mumbles into Martin's shirt, "too good, oh fuck, so good, it's like a curse, man, don't ever let any other leech know, don't ever, don't ever, they'll never let you go, they'll ghoul you and tie you up and stand you to stud and you'll never get away, ever."

Martin's heartbeat is swift and strong, resonating in his chest. A wordless promise of so much more where that came from for the poor vampire collapsed there. Arousal just intensifies everything about him, a flood of teasing pheromones, the way he moves -- it doesn't take long for Ren to get a rather decisive response out of him and he peaks just before Tristan seals the wound, so that he's coming down with an exhausted sigh. It makes a much nicer human cushion than one that's writhing and moaning. It's debatable if he even hears the words, though he responds breathlessly, "No one else. All yours, no one else's." That's kind of like agreeing, isn't it?

Serendipity is very, very quiet still, unmoving, hardly breathing; the only real indication of his presence is his bodyheat and the light touch of his hands, arms wrapped almost weightlessly around the two of them. His face isn't actually visible, forehead resting softly against Martin's hair.

Tristan weakly slips an arm around Ren as well, his cheek still mashed on Martin's chest. "Unh," he grunts, indecipherably. "Ooh shit, man."

Martin stirs a little, weakly, and then decides he's -just- fine with Tristan using him for a cushion. One strong arm slips around the vampire, oddly meek given the man's muscular fortitude. He tilts his head, seeking out Ren's lips with his own for a kiss. He looks just a little dazed. Not all here, and far too relaxed and blissed for anyone's good.

After a moment, Ren lets the lips meet. The kiss is soft and tender and slow, all lips. It's hard to say whether anyone present would notice, but the kin seems to be... well, not crying, exactly, but his eyes appear to be leaking or something.

Tristan is all about the noticing, baby. "Hey," he mumbles, looking up at Ren with eyes gone soft and gentle green. "Hey man, what's all that for? What's with the waterworks, kiddo?"

Martin blinks a little, his head falling back amidst the bedding as his eyes flutter open, Tristan's words sparking his attention, and he stares up at Ren looking a little lost, then concerned. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asks softly.

Serendipity sort-of-smiles, half a laugh escaping, just a puff of air, really, hardly any sound attached, and his hand comes up to wipe the wetness off his face, quick and a little rough. "Nothin'," he replies softly, "...everythin'. Nothin'. ...Nothin'. I dunno. It's just... I dunno." He puts his arm back around them, and squeezes, tipping his head to rest against Martin's forehead again for a moment, veiling his face and then lifting it again. "...I love you guys, you know?"

Tristan blinks dizzily up at Ren, then reaches up to pet the Kin's cheek. "Aww, hey. Hey. Uhm. Hey. I ..." Unable to find words, as he so seldom is, he withdraws, sitting up, and gives Ren an actual hug. A for real, tight, full contact hug. "Sorry," he mumbles into Ren's hair. "I didn't join your kumi and I ran away and I avoided you and now I'm gonna go on a dangerous mission that I might not live through and I been just real shitty to you. I'm a fucking shitheel an' that's the truth."

Martin sits up as well, slowly, clumsily compared to Tristan, and he sidles over to slip an arm around Ren's waist, nuzzling at his hair and throat. "I love you too," he whispers against the kin's ear. Then, he fixes his lazily satisfied gaze upon Tristan and starts to say something, but looks away as though chastised.

Serendipity hugs back, hard. "...are not. You gotta do what you gotta. 's just how it is. But no dyin' again, okay? Keep it just th' once." Then he's quiet between them again.

Tristan squeezes Ren, then holds him at arm's length and smooths his hair back from his face with little compulsive gestures. "I'm gonna try. I swear I'm gonna try. Can't promise more'n that." Leaning in, he kisses Ren on the mouth. It's clumsy--he's only used to a certain kind of kiss--but careful and sweet for all that. He's flushed and pliant with Martin's heady blood. Then he squirms around a little and plants another one on Martin.

Martin gets a warm, kind of muzzly smile as he watches Tristan kissing Ren, then again sated is about the way he's going to be looking for awhile. When it's his turn, he's taken by surprise, but he rolls with it, curling his fingers loosely through Tristan's hair and returning the favor in full. "Come back to us," he whispers before letting him go.

Serendipity kisses Tristan back, taking exactly what's given and no more, but tenderly. He smiles a little bit when the vampire moves on. "Soon, 'f y' can," he agrees, "...an' if you do need anything, later? Most likely we're 'round here."

Tristan nods, his bangs hanging in his eyes. "I'll try," he promises. "Swear I'll try." In two jerky-graceful motions he extricates himself from the embrace and stands. "I gotta go, guys. Shit, I'm sorry, but...if I don't go, I don't know when I will. I never had anything to come back to before." He turns his back on Martin and Ren, but doesn't do his usual vanishing trick down the trapdoor, instead staring at it, his lean back and narrow bony shoulders tense.

Martin snakes both arms around Ren's waist, resting his chin on the kin's shoulder as he watches Tristan sedately. He gives Ren a nuzzle with his cheek, casually intimate, as he tells Tristan quietly, "It will be here, when you return. We'll think of you every day. Every night." Thinking about it even now seems to have quite the effect on the trader, and he absently nips at Ren's ear.

"Rae wants us to get a house," Ren remarks, the relevance appearing as he continues, "...we're gonna make you a room in it. For when you come back. You don't hafta feel like you gotta stay there or anything, but it'll be yours anyway." He leans into the nibble, and a little shiver goes down his spine, but he just cuddles in a little more, for now. "Gonna miss you. So, y'know. Go kick some ass, Tris."

Tristan's expression isn't visible, but his back emotes puzzlement over the house, then hunches over a little in pain when Ren says that part of it will be his regardless. After a moment, he straightens up. He turns his head enough to show his face in profile, his hair hanging in his eyes, and grins a sharp, white, long-sharp-fanged grin. Then he whips open the trapdoor and leaps through it, and is gone into the night.